My Policy

I shrugged and blinked back a stray tear when a colleague asked how I was this morning.

“What’s wrong?” she said, her voice immediately filled with sympathy. I shrugged again and said something about a rough week. I was just struggling. I woke around 6 this morning and, dreading the thought of going to the office and dealing with another full day, decided to take a long walk before getting ready.

Mist floated in the valleys and on the bodies of water near my house. I grimaced at my lawn, looking rather unkempt compared to its neighbors. Resolving to get home in time to mow tonight, I took comfort in the other yards in the neighborhood that hadn’t been trimmed yet this week. Chienne stopped to sniff and I waited, shivering a bit in the cool morning breeze. But it was peaceful – as it typically is here – and I sighed as we moved in through a loop, watching as people dutifully began their commutes to work. I showered, dressed and soon did the same, packing my bag and heading off toward my office.

I must, I decided, fix things. It’s not like I can afford time off – I read nor write personal emails, I don’t check blogs or read news. When at the office, I work. I began to eat my yogurt while my laptop docked into its station and abandoned my breakfast treat when Outlook opened and demanded attention. I started returning phone calls and answering messages before my meeting started. Adam arrived before I was finished.

He held up his hand when I started to ask questions and reminded me that I’d scheduled time for a different purpose. “Focus,” he reminded me. His eyebrows raised when mine lowered over my most menacing of glares. I took a breath, told myself not to get fired and opened my mouth before closing it again.

“OK,” I finally said. “Let’s talk about the topic at hand. But it doesn’t make all this other work go away.” So we talked and he defined actions for me and we moved on to the next few items on which I needed his input or influence. Then we walked together to our next meeting.

“I worked without stopping yesterday,” I said as we strode down a hallway. “And I accomplished nothing. I talked to people, dealt with technical issues, returned phone calls, set up meetings and went home exhausted. And I accomplished nothing! I don’t work like this! I need progress! I need something to get done rather than just having meeting after meeting and flipping meeting to make a simple decision!” I paused to let him open a door for me and stayed quiet as we continued to walk.

“I’m struggling,” I concluded in a softer tone and without the dramatic hand gestures that had accompanied my previous rant.

“I see that. I hear you,” he said.

“This is really different,” I told him. “I’m used to making decisions and getting things done. But my list just gets longer and longer because nothing can ever get checked off. And I don’t have time to figure out how to fix it because I’m so busy running to hell and back for 10 hours a day.”

“Well,” he finally said after we went through another doorway, “you could do something. And it’s actually mostly done – you’ve completed much of the work already.” About to elaborate, he stopped when we had to greet our guests who had arrived for the meeting. Switching focus, we both shook hands and chatted before the meeting began. Adam left after an hour while I sat through the next four on my own.

“Look,” I finally said to the men who are visiting. “For better or worse, you get me. People pop in and out of these meetings, but it’s my job to stay. I’m too new for them to let me make real decisions – which sucks for all of us, frankly – but this is what we have to make work. So let’s be honest, shall we? I know you do good work, but we don’t want this, that or the other. We’re making those ourselves. We need X, might want Y and need more details on Z. So let’s focus on what’s productive and see where we land.” So we made some progress – nothing major, but it was something. I defined goals, reoriented their plans and got to a point where I understood what they wanted and pushed back on a few issues. They bought me lunch before I returned to my desk.

Adam soon came to fetch me, having seen me walk through my door and close it behind me.

“Come on,” he smiled, motioning me toward his office before turning to move in that direction.

We sat, taking seats opposite each other around his table. “I’m having a bad week,” I offered when he’d looked at me for too long. “I love this job – I really do – but it’s frustrating as hell sometimes. I want to finish something. Get a sense of being productive rather than busy. And I can’t disappoint many more people. You tell them they can have something, then I have to call and qualify that with ‘in a year’ or ‘if you buy it.’ It’s not fair!”

“You sent that email,” he grinned. “I laughed – it’s how you play the game.” I smiled and shook my head and we talked through a couple of problems. “We’ll sit down next week and go over some ideas on how to make this better,” he promised.

“See?” I noted, “We can’t even solve this today.”

But I rarely regret sharing my struggles. If someone doesn’t know I need help, said assistance won’t appear. Feeling better about someone other than me thinking of how I can be more productive, I stayed late to finish a pile of work on my desk. Then I left my computer at work so I could come home and mow.

Looking back at grass that was tidily trimmed, I nodded with some satisfaction before coming in to shower for the second time today. I accomplished something - even if it was mowing and laundry and organizing my closet. And I’m tired so I suppose that’s enough for today.